The Armament Inquiry
by Otempora42
Summary: Lacey wonders why Wendy and the Middleman carry guns. Oneshot, mild language and innuendo.


**This is based on a challenge by thebluefenix, so, yeah. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: I don't own the Middleman.

The Armament Inquiry

**The illegal sublet Wendy shares with another young, photogenic artist. 10: 11 PM.**

Lacey was well aware that temping was a dangerous profession. She still had a scar from when an alligator had spontaneously appeared in the next cubicle. Now that she thought about it, the animal control man had looked a little like Sexy Boss-man.

But there was only so much danger one could encounter in the line of work. And Lacey wasn't sure why Dub-Dub needed a gun, especially being a pacifist and everything.

"Um," Wendy said, when Lacey asked about it. "International services is a... very dangerous job."

"Ooh, sounds fun. What exactly do you do?"

"Can't tell you." Lacey raised an eyebrow. "I had to sign a confidentiality clause when I started. Our company values our clients' privacies."

"Oh," Lacey said. She'd long since given up trying to get a straight answer out of Dub-Dub about her job. It was still confusing, though. What could she possibly be doing that was so secret? They'd always shared everything. Lacey had even told Wendy about that one time with the celery and the diaphragm.

There was one thing Lacey knew: it had better be pretty damn important.

* * *

**The illegal sublet Wendy shares with another young, photogenic artist. 9:24 AM.**

Lacey was eating her breakfast in front of the TV one morning when the doorbell rang.

"Can you get that?" Dub-Dub called. Lacey put her bowl of cereal down on the sofa and got up. At the door was none other than Sexy Boss-man himself.

"Hi, Wendy's boss," Lacey said, vaguely aware that she was wearing her worst jammies.

"Hello, Lacey. Is Dubbie home?"

"She's just getting dressed." Lacey thought about her question. "If you guys are a temp agency, why do you carry guns?"

"Cockroaches."

"You're kidding."

"I wish I was. You should see the size of them." He pulled out his gun. "Of course, they don't shoot bullets."

"Really?"

"No. They spray insecticide."

"Cool. Can I try it?"

"No!" Boss-man cleared his throat. "It's highly corrosive. Very dangerous."

"Oh," Lacey said, disappointed. "Can I ask you another question?"

"All right."

"Why can't Dub-Dub ever explain anything about her job? I mean, what's so secret?"

"I think you'll find, Lacey," said Pillow-Lips, "that Wendy will tell you when she is ready to tell you."

"God, it makes it sound like you're in the CIA or something."

"Hardly."

Wendy came down, fully dressed in her work uniform. Lacey wasn't quite sure why Wendy needed a special uniform, but at least now it was kind of cute.

"Ready, Dubbie?" Sexy Boss-man asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she replied. "See you later, Lace."

"Bye, Dub-Dub. Bye, Wendy's boss."

"Goodbye, Lacey."

* * *

**The Middlemobile. 9:39 AM.**

"So, you told Lacey that our guns were for shooting _cockroaches_?"

"People believe what they want to want to, Dubbie. It was easier for Lacey to accept that we had novelty insecticide sprayers than that we needed guns in our job."

"Really?"

"Really." The Middleman stared at the road. "I think Lacey's becoming suspicious."

"Lacey went past suspicious a long time ago. I think it was the Middlewatch that broke her."

"That may be, but you need to be more careful around her. If she discovers our real job, she'll be in grave danger."

"Whatever you say, boss," Wendy said. "What's our mission, anyway?"

"Actually, we have to face giant mutant cockroaches."

"You're kidding."

"I'm never kidding, Dubbie."

* * *

**The illegal sublet Wendy shares with another young, photogenic artist, 6:51 PM.**

Wendy walked through the door to find Lacey watching TV.

"Don't you have a job?"

"Well, good evening to you. Aren't we a ray of sunshine?"

"If you'd spent the last two hours scrubbing cockroach guts off of you, you'd be in a bad mood, too." Wendy waited to see how Lacey would react.

"Yeah, right. You're such a kidder. Should I make the Hot Pockets tonight, or do you wanna?"

"Whatever floats your boat," said Wendy, slightly disappointed.

People believed whatever they wanted to believe, apparently.


End file.
